Mental Boxes
by JLo10131121
Summary: Pre-S3b. Outlaw Queen. Why does Regina hate Robin Hood so damned much by the end of the year when they're ready to curse themselves back to Storybrooke?


**Author's Note: **So no worries, I'm still working on T&C Chapter 7, but since this is OQ Week, I decided to accept the challenges on Tumblr and will also be posting this there. In any event, this is definitely rated M for mature audiences, so children go away. Do no blame me for the corruption of your morals (if any). With that said, this is set in the EF, pre-S3b, when Regina and Robin Hood are antagonistic to each other. Another take of mine as to why she hates his guts so damned much by the end of the year when they're about to curse themselves back to Storybrooke.

* * *

"Don't MOVE!" Regina whispered fiercely, gripping his hips to keep him in place. Robin Hood couldn't help but move slightly, his feet starting to kill him from being in place for so bloody long. Grime under his boots crunched and ground against the floor and Regina gripped his hips, digging in those razor nails warningly.

They were stuck, almost quite literally, between walls in her castle. Muffled voices could be heard through the stone and mortar that made up the walls and foundation of the castle. Zelena's cackle rebounded through the materials and bounced off the walls, sounding even closer than it, and she, actually was. What had ever possessed her to allow _him_ to join her on this scouting and intel-gathering mission would remain a mystery, Regina thought angrily, and smothered a scream.

She had informed the Charmings and company that she was going to find out more about what Zelena had planned, stating she knew her castle inside and out and that she could get through much faster on her own than with a caravan. That damned thief Robin Hood had volunteered himself as a sidekick, tagalong, and so-called protector, and she'd not objected too fervently. It was decidedly un-Regina-like of her. She was a loner, had no need for anyone else, and quite frankly, the idea of someone else, especially _him,_ coming with her made Regina want to transfigure him into something much more useful, like a horse. She wasn't going to examine why the thought of him in a series of ropes and bound with her at the lead of those reins gave her a thrill of pleasure.

But she hadn't. And right about now, she was wishing she had. Because if she had, he'd be outside grazing on grass or hay or something and she'd _not be in this position. _Stuck. Between walls. _In her own damned castle. _

And even more infuriating and disconcerting was the position she was in. With him. Pressed up against _him. _Chest to chest, hip to hip, with very little room to breath, much less move. They'd heard Zelena and one of her monkeys coming and they'd darted into the hidden alcove Regina had revealed by pulling a candelabra and pushing a book in the vast library into the book case. That combination had revealed a hidden door, an exceedingly narrow hallway that led from the library to the servants' chambers. It had been used on occasion for the king to move his mistresses through the house from their quarters to his study for dalliances. They'd not had a moment to think before they had to dart into the darkened and narrow space. It was barely big enough for one person and a small child, much less two fully grown adults. She'd pulled him in sharply and quickly, heard him smother a yelp, before depressing the almost hidden button to release the lever and close the door behind them before Zelena walked in.

Regina tried to take a breath and inhaled shallowly, breathing stale air, cobwebs, and the musty smell of whatever the hell had died in the enclosure years ago. She grimaced and tried to move slightly to get more comfortable, but it was futile. It only rubbed her body against Robin's and the feel of his chest, hard and unyielding, scraping against her breasts, made her nipples take notice and her breath froze. She was wearing, of all things today, a simple red blouse, black riding jacket and black leather pants. Her corset was a demi and therefore accentuated her waist as opposed to cupping and filling her chemise to overflowing. So there was nothing between her breasts and his chest except the thinnest of materials.

Robin felt a tug low in his body at the feel of the woman in front of him pressed so intimately against his front and he prevented his itchy fingers from reaching for her hips, reciprocating the pressure he felt against his own from her hold. She didn't seem to really know she was gripping him so hard, her nails pressure points against his skin such that he swore he'd have bruises there in the morning. Perfectly round reminders of her hands against his skin.

Regina strained to push him and his chest out of her mind and concentrate on what was being said, but she could only catch a word here or there, not enough to glean any useful information. Her ears strained but all she could seem to hear clearly was his breath puffing lightly against her. All she could feel was the moist heat breathed against her ear, and skin that had never been sensitive before, came alive under his mouth. And she couldn't concentrate anymore.

Exactly how was she supposed to be able to gather information on her big sis's plans when there was 210 pounds of muscled male in front of her? And just like that, the tension between them skyrocketed.

Robin pulled back his face just far enough to be able to see her expression from dim light coming from above them. It must be some hole in the floor of a room above to shine such a weak light, but his eyes had adjusted. They ate up the form of the woman in front of him and he strained to see the expression on her face. She appeared conflicted. Something was banked in those eyes, restraint in every bit of her body language, tense and rigid, but he could see something there. It burned hot and bright and she was trying to smother it.

He hid a smile and flicked his gaze around her face, taking in the lines of strain around her mouth, determined, so determined to stop whatever was happening between them without a single word or action. He could feel it, whatever this was, building between them and the air became pregnant with it, the tension so thick, so heavy, it became hard for him to breathe. Blue was drawn to chocolate and the gauntlet was drawn.

"What are you afraid of?" Robin Hood murmured quietly, moving his hands to brace against the wall at her back, palms encountering slightly moldy and damp stone.

Her eyes flashed at him, a mix of anger and challenge there, and then acceptance. A dare. It was just sexual tension. Just an itch that needed to be scratched. And Regina was an expert at functional release. "Only biological," she muttered as she smashed her lips against his, forcing his mouth open and Robin Hood was unprepared for the restrained violence of the kiss. It was angry and controlling and manipulative and he countered the violence with patience and gentleness and slowed the pace, but still allowed the woman between his arms to maintain control.

All of Regina's frustrations with the man in front of her poured out in the kiss, lips bruising, teeth nipping sharply at the soft and pliant surface of his lower lip before scoring inside. Why did he have to be so damned right all the time, infuriatingly convinced he had all the answers, digging under her skin like a rash and no matter how much she scratched she couldn't find relief…

This was one itch that was definitely getting worse, she thought hazily and unconsciously the kiss turned softer, slicker, and hotter and went from hurried and furious to languid and lush. One hand let the death grip go that she had on his hips and skated up his side and over his shoulder, pulling him closer into her, removing that last bit of space between their bodies. And now she could feel him full force against her and the part of him that had been soft before was now pressing insistently between her thighs and Regina was blessedly happy she had decided to wear pants today because she could feel every magnificent detail, all of him pressed against the apex of her thighs. A low heat throbbed in body, and wetness pooled slippery and fast between her thighs.

A gasp ripped from her as they parted for lack of air. Breaths panted against each other as they gasped for breath and then came together as soon as they could. She'd known she was physically attracted to him from the first meeting, but she'd denied it for so long. Even going so far as to berate him publicly, even though he clearly didn't deserve it and if she'd been in Storybrooke it would never have occurred to her to act that way.

Robin trailed a series of kisses down her throat, peppering that column softly before scoring his teeth against the tendon there, earning a shiver and low moan. Mustn't be too loud, lest Zelena and her monkeys find them.

He nuzzled the blouse out of his way and treated the tops of her breasts to sucking kisses, licking the curves and fervently wishing they were elsewhere so he could continue this in a more suitable venue. He heard her smother a moan and looked up slightly to see Regina shove her arm against her mouth for a second and he grinned a bit, satisfied he'd made her majesty lose her speech.

Regina's body was in turmoil. Part of her wanted to throw him away from her, as fast as she humanly or magically could to stop the violent response of her body to his and another, greater part of her wanted him to never stop. Her body was humming with pleasure in response to his, in response to _him, _and though she'd felt pleasure before, she'd never felt the gravity of her response like this. She felt like she was going to fly apart and at the same time, she was so aware of and in her own body, hyperaware of every whisper of hair on his arm softly caressing hers as he brushed against her, the slide of his fingertips against her collarbone, the graze of his lips against her ear that she was nearly shuddering and he'd barely gotten to first base.

What the fuck was wrong with her? she thought deliriously and that was the last coherent thought for a while.

The throbbing in her lower body grew more insistent and Regina responded, pulling her legs up and levering herself so she could wrap them around his waist, but she let out a small sound of frustration. The space between the two walls was so narrow she couldn't wrap them around his waist entirely. There wasn't enough room for both of her booted feet behind his back. Bracing one arm against the mossy wall, he helped her by lifting one knee and hooking her right leg across his hip, opening her up to him and allowing him to move slightly closer, rubbing that part of him that was so damned hard for her against the softest and slickest part of her.

Robin smothered the moan that wanted to voice itself as he pressed his erection against her soft center and he swore he could feel her behind the buttery soft leather she wore and the breeches he donned. They rocked together, and she braced one foot against the ground, canting her hips against his. Breath came fast and shallow, met and merged in the open air and their eyes met and held. Each unable to look away and the pleasure built, every motion of his hips against hers rubbing his cock deliciously against her clit, so hard and sensitive, and sending a zip of pleasure and electricity shooting up her spine. Regina's eyes grew heavy and she strained to hold his gaze.

Intimate. It was so intimate, maybe even more so than sex, because their clothes were on, because they were in such tight quarters, maybe because they were holding each others' eyes like lifelines and eyes were the windows to the soul or some such drivel, but Regina couldn't help but feel bare, exposed, more so than if she'd been completely naked. But rather than feel vulnerable at that feeling, she felt safe, held, cared for. And for the first time in a very long time, maybe even ever, Regina was able to let go. Of inhibitions. Of reservations. Of long dead ghosts of past.

Concentrating on what was in front of her, Regina pulled Robin closer to her by twining her fingers through his hair, and kissed him deeply, her heart pounding, the blood rushing through her veins so loudly she swore she could hear the tattoo racing through her. After having felt nothing but pain for the last several months at Henry's loss, she was suddenly overwhelmed by pleasure and the difference in sensation led her to reach for it harder, wanting every ounce of it, of him. If she could, she'd drown in him, she thought hazily and then all thought short-circuited as Robin slowly rotated his hips and he hit a sweet spot that caused her to cry out into his mouth.

He pressed his lips harder against hers, remembering they needed to be quiet, but why was that again? The blood rushed hot and hard through his veins, in his head, and he had problems thinking, every drive in his body, every cell screaming at him to take, take, take the woman in front of him, but he couldn't. This wasn't the right place for it, much less time, but even so, the soft but urgent hungry rasps of her breath urged him to continue and give her pleasure. With that aim in mind, Robin upped his pace and suddenly they could barely keep up with each other, sometimes getting slightly out of synch, much to both of their frustration, but eventually they found a rhythm perfect for them and reached together for completion. It wasn't a race, it was a journey and the destination they reached together. Pleasure burned bright and hot in Regina, spiraling out of her control, the orgasm harder and more draining and at the same time more invigorating than any she'd had before, paradoxically.

Robin felt that frisson of pleasure shoot up his spine and his muscles seized as he emptied himself against her, in his pants, and stroked lightly against her as he came down from the high. He tenderly pressed a kiss to her lips as he regained his breath and watched as Regina's eyes opened hazily, soft and unfocused and he had one violent possessive thought to keep her with him forever, make her his, no one would be able to take her from him, but he quashed the thought hard, reminding himself a queen was not bought and sold like chattel.

If he wanted more with her, he would have to tread very carefully in this forest of booby-traps.

Regina opened her eyes as she came down from the orgasm Robin Hood had stroked her to and she shivered at the thought. Her eyes drifted shut as she nuzzled his forearm absentmindedly. She felt his fingers twine through her hair and she lazily opened her eyes again, a contented hum voicing itself.

Dark ink appeared in front of her, soft and unfocused and as her eyes adjusted, she focused in on the pattern. A tattoo.

A lion tattoo.

Suddenly, a splash of cold water shocked her system and everything came into focus as she stared in shock at the tattoo in front of her. It seemed to mock her, its mouth open in a macabre laugh, laughing at her silently, at her cowardice then—and she thought—now. Panic quickened her pulse now, a sour taste in the back of her throat, and her skin crawled wanting to get away, away from him, from the situation, from that damned lion tattoo. Because all those years ago when she'd walked, no—run—away from him without ever meeting him, she'd put all of that potential and hope of that young girl into a mental box marked "Do Not Disturb," right next to the mental box marked "Daniel" and she'd never taken it back out, not once. Never even dusted off the grime and grit to look at the writing on it.

And now she was being forced to rip open the duct tape, superglue, and staples attached to that box and open it, and she knew for damned sure she wasn't ready for it. Maybe she'd never be ready for that kind of heartache, the kind that left your soul in pieces, trying to pick them up like grasping clouds or reaching for a rainbow, never fully able to do so. Irrational tears pricked at her eyes and suddenly, it was too much. He was too close, they were too close, and she couldn't _be_ there. Pushing him violently away in the tiny space, she was able to squeeze by now where before she'd not been and she didn't even care if Zelena were to happen upon her as she made her way out of the passageway and back into the library. But by some miracle, Greenie was gone as well as her pet, and Regina was able to bolt into the library and with a whispered spell and a wave of her hand, she was gone.

Robin Hood was left in the passageway, a yell on his lips futile as the infuriating woman failed to respond or turn back. Thankfully, she left the passage doorway open; otherwise, he might have died trying to get out of the shallow corridor. By the time he made his way back into the library, Regina was long gone, and the only remnant of her was the faint smell of magic – sage and rosemary. Grimly, he worked his way back out of the castle, as stealthily as he could, considering he'd not been in the castle without Regina. When he finally reached their original rendezvous spot with no sign of the queen, he gave a sigh of resignation.

He'd allow her retreat this time, he thought, but she'd not get a second chance. He was determined the woman who had responded so passionately to his embrace would have a long chat with him and they'd be able to work this out, whatever _this _was. She'd intrigued him for weeks and he'd been attracted to her from the first moment they met, raw, physical attraction that had grown into a wary respect and affection for her ornery self. He'd loved to antagonize her, provided with numerous opportunities over the last few months, and he was confident he'd get the chance again. He wouldn't let her get away. He was a thief. He knew it and accepted it. And this time, his prize would be a guarded queen's heart.

The End


End file.
